Mine
by Ella Inspired
Summary: Ray Beech was a territorial kind of guy and what was his,was his alone including Stella Yamada;even if she didn't know it yet. Rayella


**Lemonade Mouth**

**Mine**

**One-shot**

**By Lavender**

_My third one-shot for my favorite LM shipping: Rayella. Inspired by an arguing couple at the mall…Thanks for sharing your drama with the public XD_

_I no own Lemonade Mouth. _

**(^^)**

Ray Beech is a territorial kind of guy. Anything that was considered his was his alone.

Fact of the matter was: Ray Beech didn't do sharing. It was just one of those things he had. Kind of like Scott's roving eye. He couldn't really help it; it was just something that came with the package.

When people think of Ray Beech, they associate him with the words: Jerk, Dick, Douche, and other names within those meanings.

He was fiercely protective of what was his and that included his band Mudslide Crush, his place on the school soccer team, the feared head honcho of Mesa High, and all his chosen seats for every class as well the cafeteria.

Even though lunch was a squished affair, Ray walked calmly towards his usual seat, left empty as it always was when he was there. He watched in amusement as everyone else was forced to make do with whatever seat they could get their hands on. Today was one of those days where the rain pelted down from the heavens with ice cold water, covering the skies with dark, heavy, ominous clouds. The sun hadn't peeked out as it usually did in the morning, so the look of a dreary evening cast over and remained the entire Tuesday.

Normally some people would choose to eat outside, but due to the uncooperative weather that day, everyone was forced to squeeze themselves into the lunch tables like sardines. No one was spared an empty seat, and despite people's cliques and preferences, enemies were forced to sit next to enemies, that is, if they could find a place to sit.

His usual posse arrived at the table a few minutes after he did, taking their seats around him and starting conversation as if the chaos surrounding them was nothing.

Ray smirked. To be honest, it was nothing.

The rest of the student body that didn't have a reputation like that of Ray and his group, were forced to fight for seats and looked brainless in so doing. His group, consisting of Jules, Patty, Scott and a few jocks, were periodically making small-talk and watching the rest of the teenage population run around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Conversation at the table was limited at best. The jocks in his group were only interested in getting girls, talking about the latest game or wondering if they should get another serving of lunch before the next class started. Patty and Jules, as well as a few of their cheerleader friends were talking about Mudslide Crush's newest gig out of town, going on about how they'll be VIP of the hottest thing to hit the music scene. Meanwhile Scott was in between the cheerleaders, given attention and pampered hand and foot while he sat there glumly.

He rolled his eyes at the brunet.

Ever since Mo had caught Scott once more with Jules and then with Patty, she'd dropped him like a hot cake on a field trip to Texas during a heat wave. To put it lightly, Scott was upset.

To put it bluntly, Ray didn't care.

Lemonade Mouth's increased popularity and then Scott's dissertation of their band made it quite clear that Ray needed to protect what was his again. His band, though not lacking in support from the school, needed more solid gigs like the ones that the Lemon Heads secured with Dante. Once that was all arranged; the only thing left was to get his best friend back.

In truth, Ray wasn't ashamed of the underhanded method he used to get him back.

Scott did after all, have a roving eye. It wasn't exactly underhanded if all it took was to expose it; Scott was pretty inept at discretion anyway. Besides, though Ray would never admit to actually caring for someone's feelings, let alone a girl's, he didn't exactly feel that Scott deserved Mo. Then again, what did he care? If it benefitted her it didn't really matter, as long as he got his friend back.

The task was easily done and at the end of it, Scott was the one who got knocked; by the entire Lemonade Mouth, along with Mo's father as well. Scott, true to his nature, returned where girls were aplenty and he was afforded protection from Mo's best friend, Stella Yamada.

Leaning back casually in his chair to view the Lemon Head's usual table, Ray watched as the half-Asian guitarist, and leader of Lemonade Mouth, plucked her iPod ear-pieces out of their respective places and leaned back in her seat just as he did. She seemed ignorant of his stare as she jokingly stole a muffin from Wen's lunch-tray, and handed him and Olivia cans of Mel's Lemonade.

"We're subtropical and we're proud," she usually claimed as a toast, as all three knocked their cans of lemonade. They all took unison sips and their faces twisted at the sharp taste, the Lemonade Mouth. Ray was actually surprised that they choose his insult as the name of their band, especially since it was directed only at Stella.

He rarely liked to admit _liking _anything, and the thought of him _liking _Stella Yamada made him wish he had more taste for Patty or Jules. His face twisted at the thought.

Why would he have either their attentions or overdone affections on him, when he could have Stella's blind hate instead?

Ray smirked. Baiting the half-Asian revolutionary was probably the most fun since he grew out of chasing the freshmen girls' skirts. She was a whole new game for him to play, and he'd admit it to anyone who asked; he found it enjoyable. He'd never been glared at his entire career at Mesa High, and she not only glared, but she sprayed him with that damned lemonade too.

His first thought was: She's a temperamental bitch. But then Ray noted, after much scrutinizing of her actions and reactions with other people, that maybe she just didn't like him. It didn't matter then. He's had people dislike him before, but she was the only one who made sure that he knew it.

If their daily fights and screaming matches were to be put in account, it would seem that she liked playing their little game too. Not that he'd admit it to anyone, but he was inwardly glad that Stella only fought with him.

Stella Yamada was his game and his game alone. And that, he supposed was the start of a whole new territorial phase.

Ray raised a brow as two guys, sophomores, took the empty seats remaining at the Lemon Head's table. He snorted. They looked like wannabe gangsters with their barely-on-their-heads identical black beanies, their lowly set jeans and their outrageously large cash sign necklaces hung over their chests like bibs. No lunch-trays, no book-bags, just their big heavy black leather boots which they set on the table while the rocked on the chairs.

Idiots; was his first thought as he watched Olivia quickly grab her things off the table and Wen smile uneasily meanwhile Stella merely arched a brow at them in question.

The scene played out quite comically at first, with one of the guys, a dirty-blonde, spit his gum out and attach it to Wen's face. Stella of course being the loudmouth that she was reprimanded them and demanded an apology to the red head. The distance from their table to Ray's was too out of earshot to hear anything more, but Stella was starting to look incredibly pissed. Ray's possessive nature was quipped then as he could see the fight that was just waiting to happen.

Stella only ever fought him and that wasn't going to change for anyone.

His jaw set, he stood from the table abruptly eliciting confused looks from everyone in his table. Stalking over to the Lemon Head's, the rowdy crowd of teenagers still fighting for seats unconsciously parted like the sea, creating a direct path for him to follow. It was as if they could feel the anger boiling just below the surface of his cobalt eyes, and moved away in fear of being caught in the torrent.

Upon reaching the table, Ray analyzed the situation with surprising speed.

Olivia was trying to help Wen get rid of the dull pink gum that one of the wannabes attached on his face, while Stella was being held rather tightly against said wannabe.

It wasn't that she _wanted _the guy to touch her, as if that would ever be the case. It was more like; she couldn't fight for herself.

Any guy, who'd tried to put the moves on Stella Yamada previous to finding out about her short fuse, was delivered directly to the infirmary for black eyes and squished groins. However due to a practice session gone wrong, Stella had received an injury to her guitar playing hand.

She of course, was devastated especially over the fact that she couldn't play for a full three weeks. The bandages she had to wear were removed scarcely a week ago, and it was obvious she was still in some sort of pain.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the wannabe by the shoulder, spun him around and bruised his face. The contact of Ray's fist and the guy's face was almost earth shattering, though there was no blood or broken bones to speak of it. The buzz in the cafeteria seemed to silence as the sound of impact seemed to echo, Stella clutched her painful hand and stared open mouthed at the groaning wannabe sophomore gangster, lying helplessly on the floor. "What the…why'd you," she looked confused, her mouth still hanging on its hinge.

"Shut your mouth Yamada," Ray stated coolly, as if to get back on normal ground, "you'll catch flies with that stink breath of yours."

Stella seemed to snap out her momentary daze and then looked back at him with a severe glare. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Well it was obvious you can't handle yourself as well as you think you can."

"I had everything under control before you showed up!"

"Yeah, of course you did," Ray stated with a sardonic eye roll. "But let's face it, if I hadn't stepped in you'd be in worse pain right now." Her eyes widened only a bit as she looked down at her hand. A split second decision was reached, and she raised her chin defiantly and said, "I don't need your help."

He shrugged. "It isn't my fault you're an ungrateful bitch."

She clicked her tongue at him. "And it isn't my fault that you're a violet douche."

Ray snorted. "Says the girl who sent five guys to the infirmary on her first day," he reminded, getting her face to redden in anger. "Jerk," she accused in a hiss.

"Know-it-all," he retorted back."Dickwad," Stella responded, stepping over the still groaning sophomore and crossing her arms in anger. "Bitch," _that looks extremely hot for me when she's pissed_, Ray added his smirk widening. "Man-whore," _I can't help it if I'm good looking._

"Selfish-brat."

"Douche," she stated, both teenagers standing in each other's personal space as they threw more insults at each other. "Loudmouth," _Which doesn't really bother me, at least when she screams my name it'll keep the other losers away_, he thought inhaling the sweet essence of vanilla and jasmine that emanated from her.

"Show-off," _have you seen me? I can't help it if everyone needs to behold me._

"Wannabe."

"Never was," she threw back getting the onlookers to gap. But really, she was too into this argument to care about the bystanders, or the fact that she was now practically nose to nose with Ray. He wasn't much effected either by the lack of distance and continued, "Over-sensitive," _and smells really good to boot, _he thought as the smell of her was beginning to lull the anger in him about _almost _having to share her.

"Conceited," _again, __**have **__you seen me?_

"Spoilt."

"Idiot."

"Arrogant." The space between them diminished slowly as they got closer and closer with each bad thing they called each other, but as if regaining their common sense, they stepped away from each other glaring.

"Attention whore."

"Half-wit."

"PMS," he sang almost innocently getting her to glower at him. "You're the most self-righteous jackass I've ever known," Stella sneered. "And you think I give a shit about all this 'Revolution' crap."

"You're an idiotic, narcissistic douche-bag with no respect for anyone."

"You're talentless circus freak," there was an audible gasp from the crowd, and Stella was painfully fisting and un-fisting her hurt hand as she tried to gain patience. "You know what? Fighting with you is a waste of time."

Now that one hurt.

The only reason, the only way that Stella was ever his was when they fought. And now she was saying that it was all a waste of time?

"I like you, how's that for a waste of time!"

A pregnant silence ensued.

"Whoa…did he just say what I think he just said?" Mo whispered to Charlie as they stood in the lunch line with their trays. "I think so…but…wow." There was an incessant murmur among the crowd and Stella blinked a few times while Ray blinked as well. Obviously not believing what he said out loud.

"Wait," Stella managed to utter, "what did you just say?" Someone who was recording the argument replayed what they had of the last ten seconds: _**"I like you, how's that for a waste of time!"**_

The murmurs around them got louder.

"You know, most guys tell a girl they like them with flowers and chocolates and all that lame normal girly crap," Stella stated, crossing her arms and looking up at him as casually as possible as if he's little confession did nothing to her erratically beating heart.

"I think we've established that you're far from normal," he stated with a smirk. "Why thank you every girl loves hearing that," she commented with irony as she couldn't help smiling up at him.

"Yeah, and every guy happens to like it when you call them quote a: 'narcissistic douche-bag'."

"Huh, guess we're not very normal," she said, feigning disappointment and shaking her head.

"No, I don't think we are."

Both seemed to notice that the attention previously on them had faded into who got the little scene on camera. The drone of everyone else's chatter about what they heard was quickly erasing the fact that both people in question still happened to be standing together.

"So…what now?" Stella asked. Ray looked at her and then glanced around, his eyes fell on her again after a brief scan.

"Wanna get outta here?"

She raised a brow in question, her eyes sparkling teasingly. "Pizza at Dante's?"

"You read my mind."

Without the crowd's notice, both teenagers disappeared out the cafeteria with Ray's arm draped protectively over what was his. Inwardly he was grinning like an idiot.

A thought did come to mind though that damped his mood only a bit. What about the losers who didn't believe what just happened in there and still wanted to get at his Stella? Hmm…

The next day as Stella entered Mesa High, a huge sign hung on the wall met her gaze and caught her attention. Mainly because it had her picture on it with a huge caption that read:

**STELLA YAMADA**

**PROPERTY OF RAY BEECH**

_She is mine. _

_Put that in your juice box and suck it._

**FINIS**

**Haha…so…yeah…that's it XD. I had fun with this one, and it was a regular walk down memory lane. **

**This one was obviously very different compared to my 2****nd**** one-shot: **Fireworks**, but I figured after I turned Ray into such a softie, I had to bring the jerk back out again…even if it was only for a few minutes. **

**Hope you guys enjoyed!**

**I'd like to give a special thanks to **_New-Classic22_** and **_Everybodyelse027 _**for giving me the spelling for the principal's name (Principal Brenigan), even though I didn't use him in this one-shot, but eh…**

**Also, thanks to all the reviewers of my first one-shot **Playing Mr. Nice Guy**: **_Madison706, Mitchie.x _**and**_ Everybodyelse027_.

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Lavender**


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